


and the cave that is therein

by KelpietheThundergod



Series: Fic for Dean's Birthday [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Cas and Dean taking care of each other, Dean has anxiety, Dean is touch-starved, F/M, M/M, More Pining, Pining, Post-Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Soft!Dean, Warning for Dean thinking mean things about himself, dean has ptsd, episode coda, little bit of Dean taking care of Sam too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22389478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpietheThundergod/pseuds/KelpietheThundergod
Summary: It feels kind of unfair to Sam, for Dean to be sitting here rubbing elbows with Cas when Eileen’s just left. Not that Dean doesn’t think she’ll be back—the girl’s tough as nails. It sucks, though. Dean likes her, and she makes Sam happy.Dean can’t make himself leave though. Maybe it’s selfish—and stupid; he’s exhausted and could use the sleep. But Cas hasn’t left his side in hours, and Dean’s a greedy creature. Even when they’re right next to each other like this there’s an ache. Like Dean is still missing Cas. Like it just ain’t close enough.
Relationships: Background Sam/Eileen - Relationship, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Fic for Dean's Birthday [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124252
Comments: 39
Kudos: 372





	and the cave that is therein

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deathswaywardson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathswaywardson/gifts).



__

_can you feel me?_

_I can feel you_

  
  


Dean offers Sam a drink, but Sam doesn’t even sit down. "I’m beat, I’m just gonna crash." The curve of his back screams defeat as he shuffles out of the kitchen. 

It feels kind of unfair to Sam, for Dean to be sitting here rubbing elbows with Cas when Eileen’s just left. Not that Dean doesn’t think she’ll be back—the girl’s tough as nails. It sucks, though. Dean likes her, and she makes Sam happy. 

Dean can’t make himself leave though. Maybe it’s selfish—and stupid; he’s exhausted and could use the sleep. But Cas hasn’t left his side in hours, and Dean’s a greedy creature. Even when they’re right next to each other like this there’s an ache. Like Dean is still missing Cas. Like it just ain’t close enough. 

So, Dean lingers. He sips his booze at a snail’s pace, thumbing the rim absentmindedly. 

"You look tired," Cas says, sounding worried. "You should get some rest."

Dean shakes his head, avoiding Cas’s eyes. "Nah, m’good."

Being apart from Cas feels wrong. Every time Dean even so much as thinks about inevitably having to leave their little sanctuary in the kitchen, anxiety speeds up his heart and chokes his throat. 

They talk little, but the silence in between isn’t uncomfortable. What little conversation there is moves in circles. Dean asks Cas if he’s sure he’s okay what with those piranha-faced dicks kidnapping him. Cas reminds him that Dean’s the one that needs rest. Since Dean doesn’t want to leave, the concern makes him defensive. And also shy, because this is Cas paying attention to him and wanting to make sure that _he_ is okay. 

It’s a little ridiculous. 

Or maybe it’s only Dean himself that’s a little ridiculous. He certainly feels that way when Cas lays a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezes it. The touch immediately sends Dean’s heart galloping and his stomach quivering. It’s so stupid—Dean’s idiot body actually believes that this touch means more touches will follow. More hugs, more everything. That maybe his hand will be held. That Dean won’t have to lie alone in his bed tonight, hurting and yearning. 

“Dean,” Cas is saying, urgently. The gentle touch on Dean’s shoulder has turned into a more of a light shake. Dean blinks, realizing he’d completely spaced out. “I think you just fell asleep with your eyes open.”

Great. Not only is he being stupid, he probably looked stupid just now too.

Dean knuckles at his eyes and squints. His brain feels like mush. It's definitely time to go night night, but Dean doesn't like it at all. It means he’ll have to leave.

"What're you gonna do? You wanna watch something?" Dean's about to offer Cas his laptop, but Cas shakes his head.

"I should start researching, find another way to beat Chuck."

Dean tries to tell Cas that he can take the night off, but Cas is stubborn. 

"I'd rather stay busy," he says, and Dean can't argue with that because he gets it. 

Leaving his unfinished drink behind, Dean stands, and Cas does too. They walk closely enough that their shoulders bump a couple times, and when it's time for them to part ways, Dean hesitates. 

Dean kind of really wants another hug, but he's unsure if Cas wants that too. Cas may be his best friend, and Dean’s known him for years, but sometimes Cas can still be an enigma. Does he like it when Dean touches him or is it just something he's gotten used to? Does he long for Dean as much as Dean longs for him, even when they're in the same goddamn room?

It's not that Dean doesn't know how to ask, it's that he doesn't think he could handle the answer. He can't handle a lot these days. 

Telling himself that he's being brave instead of needy, Dean decides to go for it and draws Cas into his arms. His heart is beating fast enough with nerves that Cas must notice, but he doesn't say anything. He only puts his arms around Dean in return and breathes out what might or might not be a sigh against Dean's shoulder.

Dean's trying not to cling, but—he's definitely holding onto Cas tighter than Cas is holding onto him. It's stupid and selfish but it hurts. It _physically_ hurts how much Dean needs Cas to hold him like he doesn't want to let him go. 

When they step back, Dean's so embarrassed, he can barely meet Cas's eyes. There's a beat, and then Cas says, softly, "Sleep well."

Ducking his head, Dean nods, and then he beelines it to his room. 

He makes it through his nightly routine without looking at himself in the mirror once. The moment he shuts off the light and lies down, though, there's pressure on his chest and in his lungs, and his heart starts racing.

With a bitten-off curse, Dean stretches out on his back and forces himself through some breathing exercises to calm down what is definitely _not_ separation anxiety. It can't be that, because that's a level of pathetic he doesn't know how to deal with. 

Eventually, the pressure ebbs,and his heart rate calms down. But instead of feeling like there's a vice around his chest, he now feels a hollowness there. It builds and spreads until it seems to have reached every last part of his body. 

Curling up on his side and closing his eyes, he tries his best to ignore it. To keep breathing evenly, and to not think about anything. The hollowness hurts in that way that starvation hurts—urgently and desperately. Dean curls his hands into loose fists and shuts his eyes tighter against the prickling heat behind them. 

He must have fallen asleep at some point. When he wakes, it's with a start, his heart in his throat. Sitting up so fast it makes him dizzy, he scrubs a hand over his face. When he fumbles for the bedside lamp with shaking fingers, he knocks his phone off the table. He squints at his alarm clock and, well, four hours are better than no hours. 

His body feels like it got run over by a truck, even though all that happened was that he got knocked out by a leviathan and then got punched in the face by God. That’s no biggie, comparatively. He can deal with that, but not with the way it feels inside—like he ripped something open, and it's still bleeding and won't stop.

When he shuffles over to his sink, he makes the mistake of looking into the mirror. His eyelashes and cheeks are crusty with dried tears. Cringing away from his reflection, Dean bends down and throws cold water on his face until the evidence of his weakness is gone.

The shame stays, though. What the fuck does he have to cry about? He ain't the one who got tortured by God and then had to watch his lover walk away. 

Apparently Dean's fresh out of both dignity and decency though, because the first thing he does after throwing on his robe is go and look for Cas. 

He expects Cas to be in the library, but he's not, so Dean goes to check the kitchen next. Except, when he gets close, he hears voices. It somehow hadn't even occurred to him that Sam might already be up as well. 

Dean slows to a stop. He wants to check on Sam, but he can't fucking be around Cas right now when Sam is also there. Not while he feels this stupidly fragile. He needs to get himself together first, get some control back. 

With his tail between his legs, Dean shuffles back to his room, grabs a change of clothes, and locks himself in the shower.

It takes several long minutes, but the hot water finally calms Dean down some. Mammalian Diving Response, Sam had explained once. Dean doesn't much care why it works, just that it does. 

Any other day, Dean might use the opportunity to jerk off, just for that extra bit of relaxation. But today, that'd be a recipe for disaster. He doesn't think he could look Cas in the eye after, or even be around him without blushing like a repressed maiden. No, no, no. Not doing that. He turns the shower to cold until the urge passes, and that's it. 

When he enters the kitchen, Cas is still there but Sam is gone. Dean feels relieved at that, and then guilty about feeling relieved. 

Cas is thumbing through a file, and he's surrounded by several piles of books. He looks up as Dean comes in and smiles at him in that soft, dorky way of his. Like he's happy to see Dean.

Because Dean has transformed into a thirteen-year-old girl overnight, he lifts his hand and gives Cas an embarrassing little wave. Geez, what is he going to do next, pretend to have accidentally dropped a tissue? He beelines it to the coffee machine. 

Pretending not to know, Dean asks, "Sam up?" Or more like squeaks, because his voice is a traitor apparently. 

"Yes, you've just missed him. He went for a run, he wanted to clear his head."

Dean hums in reply and fiddles with the coffee machine to have an excuse to keep his back to Cas while he tries to remember how to act like a normal person. Or like normal Dean at least, instead of humiliatingly twitterpated Dean.

"He eat?"

"No. He said he wasn't hungry."

That gives Dean pause. Sam didn't eat last night, either. And okay, Dean's not super hungry right now, but Dean not eating and Sam not eating are two completely different cans of worms.

So, once the coffee is done, Dean parks himself at the stove and prepares a serving of scrambled eggs for himself and two egg white omelets for his stupid hippy brother. His stupid _sad_ hippy brother. Christ, those omelets even smell disgusting. Sammy better appreciate this.

Dean leaves Sam's food on the stove for him to graze on when he comes back. He prepares some more coffee, and this time even remembers he's not a Neanderthal and pours Cas a cup as well. Then he takes his plate of eggs and sits his butt down on the chair across from Cas, shoving some dusty books out of the way. 

They're sitting like they did yesterday, just that Dean's sitting where Cas sat. It feels like there’s more distance though, with all those stupid books in the way. 

"Thank you, Dean," Cas rumbles when Dean hands him his coffee. He doesn't really look up from whatever he's reading while he takes it, which Dean doesn't like, but their fingers brush, which—yeah. 

The contact is brief but so good; also terrible, and insufficient. Ducking his head, Dean starts to moodily stab at his eggs.

This is exactly why he tries to keep such a tight lid on his bullshit at all times. Once he opens up, it just keeps spilling, and he can't make it stop. 

He must have spaced out for too long because suddenly Cas's hand is on Dean's arm, gently shaking it.

Dean doesn't flinch exactly, but he does almost fling the eggs on his fork across the room when the sudden contact startles him. Cas quickly withdraws his hand. Dean wants to punch himself. 

"Are you alright? You looked like you were in pain."

Yeah, that's ‘cause he was thinking. Never been his strong suit.

"Nah, just, uh. Didn't sleep well." Dean chugs some coffee for confidence and then chances a look at Cas. 

Cas is looking directly at him, is frowning. 

"Your eyes look glassy. Maybe you're coming down with something."

Cas reaches out, but instead of putting his fingers to Dean's forehead, he curls them around the edge of Dean's jaw. Dean goes very, very still. 

There's that prickle under his skin as Cas uses Grace to check Dean's system for viruses or whatever. All Dean can focus on is how warm Cas's fingers are and how one of them is pressing lightly against that sensitive spot behind Dean's ear. 

The prickling ends, but Cas's frown deepens. 

"I couldn't find anything amiss. But your heart is beating very fast."

Swallowing thickly, Dean tries to clear his suddenly blocked throat. Cas withdraws his hand, and Dean’s heart lurches painfully. His skin still tingles where Cas was touching him. 

“Are you worried about Sam?” 

On Cas’s face is his _I am trying to figure this out_ frown. He looks rumbled and confused and adorable. His hands are _stupid_ big—he could wrap them around Dean’s and hold them no problem. 

Wrenching his gaze away from Cas’s hands, Dean drops it into his coffee mug, watching the dark liquid swirl before he takes a sip. Finally succeeding in clearing his throat, he manages a half-shrug with one shoulder. 

“Kid’s had a rough day yesterday,” he says, which is neither a yes nor a no to Cas’s question. And, oh fuck, is that his voice? He sounds like a wreck. He chugs more coffee and then grimaces—it’s barely lukewarm anymore. 

“He did,” Cas agrees. His voice has a soft lilt like he’s trying to soothe Dean. “But Dean, I’m sure he will ‘bounce back’.” Cas does the air quotes thing. It looks just as dorky as usual, and a strong wave of fondness warms Dean from within. “When he’s ready to talk, he’ll come to you.”

Dean chews his lower lip and nods. “Yeah.” He doesn’t deserve Cas trying to take care of him. Picking up his fork, he starts stabbing at his eggs again. They’re probably cold as well. He inclines his head at the research chaos around them, “You find anything?” 

Cas hasn’t, but Dean listens to him vent about their frustrating situation, trying his best to be supportive. He gets so wrapped up in their little bubble, it’s jarring when suddenly Sam is in the kitchen. Sam’s sweaty and smells like a wet dog. Dean complains, and Sam ignores him in favor of chugging a huge glass of water and then poking at the egg whites and humming in approval.

Dean makes a face, and Cas huffs out a breath of laughter, a lopsided smile on his face. 

The three of them are busy the rest of the day—there’s hunter network stuff to take care of, emails to read and answer, phone calls to make. Dean tackles the immense pile of laundry that no one’s had time for in weeks. He takes stock of what’s in the fridge and writes a shopping list. 

Cas offers to come with him on his supply run. When they get into Baby, Cas sinks into the passenger seat with a sigh and runs a hand over her dashboard like he’s missed her. Dean’s face is suddenly very hot and he fumbles the tape he meant to put in the deck. 

Cas immediately notices that there’s no music, and Dean lets him turn the radio on. Cas chooses a station that plays nothing but the current crap Top 40. Dean complains that each of the songs is more horrible than the one before, but Cas doesn’t agree. They bicker about it all the way to the store.

Shopping with Cas isn’t like shopping with Sam. Dean heaves a family pack of Chocolate Fudge ice cream in their cart, and instead of berating him, all Cas does is scratch ice cream off the list. 

The one-on-one time with Cas lifts Dean’s mood, but while he’s cooking dinner, he slowly slips into melancholy. 

It’s night again. Night means he’ll be alone. 

It’s ungrateful as fuck of him, he knows it is. And it’s not like he hasn’t been dealing with this for years, that he doesn’t have practice. But it’s worse now. It’s so much worse. 

Dean’s quiet over dinner, mostly leaving conversation up to Sam and Cas. He ducks his head over his plate and glances at Cas. Sometimes when he looks up, Cas is looking at him. 

Just like the night before, Dean lingers after Sam has gone to bed. Not as long though—his eyes are burning with fatigue, the stress of the last couple of weeks finally catching up with him. After washing the dishes, he dries his hands on a dishtowel and makes to duck out of the kitchen. Shoulders already curved around the growing hollow in his chest. 

Reaching for him, Cas stops him with a touch to his elbow. Their eyes meet. Cas is looking up at him from where he’s sitting at the table, but it’s Dean who feels small. 

Cas draws a breath. Then hesitates. “I hope you sleep better tonight,” he finally says, his voice soft and quiet. Dean swallows, and it feels loud in the intimate space between them. Already that ache is spreading from his chest up into his arms and into his throat. He _aches_ to hug again, but enough is enough, he can’t keep demanding Cas giving him these things. His throat’s so tight he can’t even say thank you. 

Dean drops his gaze and nods. He reaches out and squeezes Cas’s hand where it’s touching his elbow, that little point of contact enough to make him long again. Then Dean lets go, and turns. And he goes to bed alone, and he lies alone on his back and relearns how to breathe around that hollow cave that is his heart. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to [@wigglebox](https://wigglebox.tumblr.com/) for the super quick and thorough beta work <3 please check out her 15x09 coda [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22340605) !! 
> 
> if you enjoyed this fic, please leave me a comment and [reblog my fic on tumblr](https://cuddlemonsterdean.tumblr.com/post/190445914846/and-the-cave-that-is-therein-post-15x09) <3
> 
> i keep seeing people subscribe to stories of mine that are finished instead of to me (meaning they won't be notified when i post a new work). if you want to receive an email notification every time i post something on AO3, please click on my username and then on dashboard and then on subscribe! [direct link](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelpietheThundergod)


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